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S
Shadowdancer3349
Sep 17, 2018 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

Marauders

With the days
fast fading light
when all prepare to sleep
the voiceless apparitions
suddenly begin to speak

Shadow caught
in a pale moonlight
howling to
a starless night

Marauders of unspoken dream
preying upon ones fear
the veil that shrouds
subconscious mind
they rend and shred
and tear

Till they are sated
loathed and hated
these pillagers of the night

Voices take on fevered pitch
inside my head they do unhitch
the last strains of
my sanity

These voices echo
they reverberate
forcing me into this mindless state
as morning rises and the shroud
is gone
my temporary madness is forestalled

About This Poem

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Country/Region: United States of America North Carolina

Favorite Poets: Edgar Allen Poe, some frost

More from this author

Comments

R

raj

6 years 9 months ago

Hello SD

great choice of words to express state of the mind ...the title is succinct for the poem..
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Rula

Rula

6 years 9 months ago

Hello Shadow

and a v. warm welcome to Neo. I thought this is a very expressive poem. Thanks for introducing me to the word "Marauders". I loved the wording and the internal rhymes through out also the way you've set the mood for the reader
I wasn't though sure about the word 'pillagers' . maybe you've coined it?
All in all a good job is done here.
Looking forward to reading more of your work.

S

Shadowdancer3349

6 years 9 months ago

Rula

thank you so much for your very kind words and taking the time to read my work

Eumolpus

Eumolpus

6 years 9 months ago

We can follow the narrative

and understand what you are dealing with. To me the poem needs more description of these mauraders..are they like the highwaymen, on horse with dark robes like in a Hobbit movie? The images of Bald Mountain in Fantasia? Bosch like creatures? In defining in images their presence..I get a mixed messages about them as in

the voiceless apparitions
suddenly begin to speak

which is a contradiction. I'm trying to get a picture of them as a reader, just getting a lot of voices...
Also feeling the last stanza is a bit flat, the resolution seems a bit incomplete...I think there's room to make more of waking and the light of day. Coping with these demons are hard and creating a poem about them too. I think the poem as a draft has good stuff. Keep at it.

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